Intoxication

My beloved, what lies beyond the darkness?
Speak, O enchantment of the sleepless one.
I read in your eyes a legend
of a world all green and radiant,
whose orbits the lights never leave,
where life does not run toward an end;
where the rose sleeps at its ease
to the singing of the enchanting brook,
and the birds warble of love in its garden,
drunk upon its fresh young boughs.
Speak—I fear the coming of morning,
when the dreams will be wiped from my mind.
"My beloved," love is nothing but visions
we play with in our fleeting day.